Common Sense
by Shadow-Cipher
Summary: To a person like Zagi, common sense doesn't apply. The world is at his whim, and he'll do with it as he pleases. Take a gruesome walk through the night with the insane mercenary and crawl into his mind.
" _Common sense doesn't apply to people like him."_

 _What do you mean people like him?_

 _What is that supposed to mean?_

 _People like who?_

 _ **People like me?**_

The sun had surrendered the sky for the day, handing over its prized possession for someone else to take claim of. As such, darkness had taken the reigns, rushed in to command the lands once controlled by the light. It was irrelevant to me. The time of day, or even the weather, did naught to effect my choice of actions. My eyes shined within the darkness of the night, and I felt its cold arms wrap around my body. The night wanted to take control of the situation. Whether it sought to welcome another sinister recruit, chase away a sickly child, or wrought destruction for a vicious demon was beyond my comprehension. It mattered not to me, though. I never wished to understand the world. Mysteries were irrelevant to me. The world hid its very secrets, then tried to lure treasure hunters and victims alike with the glowing allure of riches, spoils, and hidden knowledge, and I was uninterested. The world only had one thing to offer me - blood - and that was in no short supply. I needn't search far and wide to find this, although I was willing to wander through plains and mountains and deserts if blood was going to welcome me upon arrival. However, any blood would do. I wasn't picky.

The wind which raced through my multicoloured hair was what brought forth the chill, and it tried its hardest to scratch at me. I felt myself smile, laughing inwardly as I considered how desperately nature was trying to make me a victim. It was beautiful, strange, that someone thought they were a match for me. I pressed forth into the darkness, and my eyes scanned the darkness for movement.

Prey was about, simply had to be. I could feel within my chest the absolute desire to taste someone's blood. My blades hungered for it, and I could feel them weighing down in my hands as I moved forward. It was almost as if my children protested the lacking of their most vital substance. They were crying to me, pleading that I feed them. I paused, smiled, glanced down at the gleaming surface of the blades themselves.

"Don't worry, my children. I will feed you." I raised my head, scanned the darkness. I always kept my promises, no matter who they were made to.

Clouds were crowding through the sky, fighting each other, clashing for space. They sought to obscure the moon and stars, to consume any fleeting specks of light over this landscape. It might seem like a hindrance, an otherworldly power attempting to obscure the vision of those out at this hour. Sometimes, however, these powers forgot there were exceptions to their rules. Darkness didn't create a problem for me. If anything, it made my job easier. Prey more often than not couldn't see in the dark.

My feet were heavy on the ground, as if each step was meant to bring pain to the very surface of the Earth. Amusing, it might be. The Earth did not bleed, but it still felt pain. It wasn't enough, though. It wasn't what I desired.

I came to an abrupt pause, lifted my head, become one with my surroundings. The night was not so quiet this time around, and it seemed as thought every time the sun switched out with the moon - covered as it was tonight - the dreary landscape took on a new personality. Sometimes I could head millions of voices droning on. I listened to them, what they were saying. Many of these voices were very, very intelligent, but some were oh so foolish. They were brave voices, cowardly voices, aggressive voices, shy voices. I preferred the quiet, though. The voices were annoying after a while. They wouldn't cease their talking, going over each other, arguing and debating, conversations unrelated to each other howling about. Focus was difficult - no, impossible - and tonight was a fair example of when these voices would not keep to themselves.

I felt a bristle race through my body. My muscles felt stiff and the blood in my veins boiled. I could feel a small part of my mind slowly tearing apart. It was about to break in half, tear apart, and nobody was going to tear me apart, including myself.

I threw down my hands in fury and screamed, "Shut your mouths!" as loudly as I could to the voices. As I lowered my head, panting slightly, the voices initially kept speaking. Then, they slowed down a little. Their conversations opted to lower in volume as the invisible people shied away from my power. They were afraid. The invisible people whom never stopped talking feared me. They feared death, and they tried to avoid it by quieting down. They seemed to hope that if they spoke quietly, I would not be able to follow their voices, and thus I would not find and kill them. Silly little invisible people. I could kill them any time I wanted to. Their blood wasn't satisfactory though, so I opted to give them a warning and let them pretend they got off. They didn't.

Once again my head lifted, and I tilted it to the side as I observed the world at an angle. The world changed like this. It was different - still pitiful, but different. I kept quiet, I watched, I waited. The voices did not fully relent, but at least they were obeying me even a little. I had all the time in the world to give them what they deserved. Now was not the correct time.

I lifted up my right hand, my eyes focused on the blade I carried with me. "Children, I can find someone now. You'll have your blood, we'll share it. All the blood you feast on will be my gift to you, and you will share back, won't you?" I paused. "Of course. I know you will. You don't need to tell me."

My blade lowered and I straightened my neck as a new sound graced my ears. Something had moved. I heard it. There were small footsteps in the grass. I stepped back a little, moving towards a dark shadow cast by a nearby tree. The leaves created an almost impossible to see area through the darkness. I would watch. The prey sounded a little small, and I considered possibly allowing it to pass if it was not satisfactory to feed my blade.

Moments later a small animal broke through the foliage, rushing into my line of sight. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic. My blade would not be satisfied by this puny thing. The small only existed to create a chain of reaction. They would feed the large, so I could then slay them. However, my prey was not alone, and I watched with an interested glint in my eyes as a larger body threw itself at the small creature and plunged a small blade into its torso. Blood oozed from its wounds, and though I found my eyes shining at the liquid, it was nothing compared to the thrill of the prize I would receive.

I wasn't sure who this person was. Adventurer, maybe. They had a weapon, they would fight back, and the only thing more thrilling than drawing the blood of a victim was when the victim would make futile attempts to fight back, brave and bold, so certain of a victory they were never to receive. So many would flee, and it was pathetic. Blood tasted better when it was drawn from a desperate warrior.

The adventurer - for lack of a better description of this man - leaned towards the creature he had slain. Clearly he was hunting for food. As I observed from my darkly corner, unnoticed by my prey, I quickly came to the conclusion he would not take a life without a reason valid to his meek mind. He wouldn't kill for sport or thrill, and it was always a bore to consider so many people like that existed.

"The strong slay the weak, hmm?" I hummed, unmoving from my dark corner. I didn't so much as shift my head. I only spoke.

I felt amused as the man glanced up. His hair was a dark colour, short, but thick. He was dressed in light armour, leather likely. I couldn't see his eye colour, not without getting closer. He was a reasonable height, a decent build, armed with a long and stiff blade as well as a weakly dagger, likely not used in direct combat. He seemed panicked at first, then confidence rushed in. I couldn't wait to tear that smug look off his face. It would be a thrill.

"Who's out there?" He didn't sound scared when he delivered that query. He wasn't meekly drawing a vicious monster to team him limb-from-limb. He was confidently inviting any who would choose to do him harm to approach. Confidence was fun - it was fun to break. "Why are you hiding?"

"I could." I answered. "Why weren't you hiding?" He did not seem impressed. "Hiding is fun. You get to see so much when you're hiding." I moved out into the open. Light was scarce, but as I drew my figure out from the deepest of shadows, weak as the light was, I could easily be seen.

"Who are you?" I saw the man step back. He could sense it, likely saw it in my eyes. I wasn't friend, didn't want to be. "Who the hell are you?"

I shifted my head to the side, viewing the world at a creative angle again. "I'm a hunter. I came out here searching for prey. My blades are so very hungry and they crave to taste blood. So, I seek to assist them."

The man lifted up his dagger, and I laughrf immediately at the pathetic nature of the weapon. My eyes flashed with amusement and my lips curled into a vicious grin as I allowed the humour to burst free. His eyes narrowed, and he cried to me, "What in the world is wrong with you?"

I quickly jerked up, my grin fading, my laughter immediately falling silent. I narrowed my eyes at the adventurer, sized him up as I drew forward. "What's wrong with me? Wrong isn't a word I like to use. Right and wrong. Oh, they're not quite fun words. There isn't a right or a wrong. There's a strong and a weak. The weak, like you, only exist to feed the strong, and we draw blood to remind up of this." I continued to step towards him, dragging my feet as thought I were being forced to move in his direction against my very will.

"Get away! I'll attack if you come any closer!" His warning was utterly pathetic, and I continued forward with purposeful sluggishness.

I was too close for his comfort, and as I took a single step into his personal zone, he reacted. The adventurer thrust his dagger in my direction, flinging it at me as a throwing weapon with force. The small blade whizzed through the air, howling as it raced for its target. The blade struck me on the shoulder, tore into flesh and drew forth blood, which was warm on my shoulder as it rushed to enter this world. I paused in my movements, but showed no signs of pain.

I laughed. As the blood rushed to escape my body, I erupted into laughter. It was great! The man's eyes widened. So many people in this world were concerned for me, and why I never understood. They were strange, them, not seeing the thrill in pain. Why were they not interested in it? Pain was genuinely amazing, and I relished in every second of it as it was inflicted upon my body. The burning in my shoulder from the blade plunged within felt genuinely wonderful, and I couldn't contain my glee.

"Ha! You are too kind." He was terrified. "The pain, oh how it's amazing." I lowered my head a little, eyes focused on his figure. "It feels so good. So, so good. You were so kind as to get me something. I simply have to return the favour."

I rushed forward quickly, drawing back on one blade as I kept the other held low. He leaped back, avoiding my strike, and anger struck me. I lifted the other arm, slashing forward, repeated, aggressive, but he dodged. His speed was impressive. Prey was always good at fleeing like a coward.

Finally, he was able to draw his own sword, although like most prey his weaponry was unmatched, rivaled by my own. He genuinely wasted his second hand, leaving it open, vulnerable, wasting its potential.

"Oh, come now. Don't dodge me too much. I won't be able to taste your blood." He blocked my strike once, twice, thrice. I spoke as I struck. "Feed my blade. Don't resist. I will kill you."

"Get away from me!" He tried to strike, and I took the opportunity. I raced under his blade, flinging myself forward in a quick spiral as I held my blades in front of me. I pierced him, tore open his flesh.

He yowled as I drew him open, pathetic as always. Nobody appreciated the gift of pain. This planet had given us a wonderful gift like no other - pain - and it seemed like not a soul understood how wonderful it was. To feel pain was to feel alive, to feel happiness, to feel like you belong on this planet. Red liquid dribbled in patches off my blade. His blood has soaked a little into my hair. I grinned, thrill rushing through me. "Yes, yes! Your blood is delicious to my blade. You treat them so well." I glanced over my shoulder, grinning at him, rising. "Feed them more!"

Dodges, failed strikes, they all followed. The adventurer was brave, but terrified. While he moved into the fight with certainty, showing no restraint as he put forth an honest effort to fend off his foe, his eyes also glowered with fear. He was afraid for his life, and while he was willing to fight without a second glance, there was a part within him that feared he would die. That was his weakness. I never feared death, and thus I never tasted it. I never came close.

He drew me off target, and as I stumbled back a little, he rushed forward and delivered three good slashes at me before knocking me to the ground. I landed with a thud, but kicked myself off the ground and landed back on my feet. "Oh, I love it." My chest had been slashed twice, and my face once. "Oh, how I love it." I lifted my hand to my face, unwilling to deny myself contact with my own blood. It was sticky, and I grinned as I lifted my hand to my face and my eyes met with the blood. It was my blood. It was beautiful. The red seemed to glow as it reflected in my eyes, the blood slowly dripping off my fingertips. I brought it to my mouth, and tasted it. "Delicious."

"You're absolutely foul!" the adventurer cried as he observed my tasting in horror. I glanced up at him.

"No, I'm strong. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to rip you apart. I'm going to feast on your blood." I stepped forward once. "There's nothing you can do about it."

He was unprepared, and I was done playing around. I raced forward at an amazing speed, my feet barely touching the ground as I skirted towards him. He hadn't drawn a breath before I was in his space. I slashed, aggressive, violent, ripping and tearing him with speed and prowess and grace as his blood was thrown to the heavens. My blades were coated with sticky, crimson liquid. His blood splattered on my clothes, into my hair, stuck on my skin, but my eyes burned with a thrill his had never known as I tore him to pieces. I struck with such speed that he couldn't react, such grace that he couldn't comprehend, and such precision that I could choose precisely how much longer he lived for. As I ripped his chest, he was thrown to the ground, thrust into the blood soaked grass with a groan.

My eyes were brimming with the glow of the bloodshed. The glow of the daylight sun could not combat it. I felt genuinely overjoyed. Every drop of blood was beautiful, and my eyes were glowing at all the red surrounding me, covering me, covering him. My blades were covered in blood, well fed. "See, children? I promised to feed you." I heard him whine, and I looked down at his pathetic form. I moved towards him with my heavy form being wrenched along. I lowered myself to one knee, placing a hand on his bloody chest, and grinning wildly at him. I lifted my hand, soaked thoroughly in crimson, and brought it to my mouth. My tongue lapped at the blood, and I moaned in satisfaction as I feasted on it. Then, my eyes fell to his pitiful form again. I could feel him struggling to convince his muscles to operate. He wanted to flee, to fight against me, to escape this hell - but he never would. "You fed my children, hero. Your blood was delicious, and you gave me something to be excited about."

"Please…" He couldn't get anything else out, or maybe he wasn't bothering. Perhaps there was a miniscule portion of his mind that argued there was nothing to plead or bargain for.

I curled my fingers around his shoulders and dragged his figure out of the bloody grass, lifting him halfway up as I drew him near me. I brought him up to my face, almost as close as I could without physically touching him. He deserved no personal space, no courtesy. Prey was to be treated as it was, pathetic, and I would throw him around like the limp rag doll he was if I so desired it. My lips curled into a smile as I held him to my face, forced him to look into my eyes. "Allow this to be a lesson to you about how the world works, a lesson I have taught so many people. Anyone who is below me shall be dealt with painfully. I will cut apart every single person in this world. I won't rest until I have tasted the blood of every known human being. People like you feed my blades, you bring me the joy of knowing pain, and I teach you how beautiful pain is so you might understand why you are wrong. Tonight, you did me so many favours, and I am ever grateful, ever in your debt." I leaned forward, licking a splotch of blood off his forehead and purring as my tongue shared its flavour with me.

True terror was known on the man's face as he stared at me, wide-eyed, and asked, "Are you insane?"

I grinned, pulling up my blade and pointing it directly over his heart. I pulled him against my face as I purred, "I don't think that's a real word." Then, I thrust my blade into his heart, laughing as the blood poured from his torso.

As his struggles ceased and I felt the last specks of life flee from his body, I tore my blade out of his chest and kicked his limp body to the ground. I rose, glanced to the sky, tilted my head. I chuckled once more before turning on my heel and departing. There was nothing new about this night and a million opportunities were crawling under the stars, waiting for me to seize them. I pressed on.


End file.
